Rhianna's Voice
by Nikki-9-Doors
Summary: Four girls, one stabbed, one run over, one decapitated. One alive - and still receiving letters from the UnSub. The team is called to Buffalo to investigate a very gruesome crime...and catch a very disturbed UnSub.
1. Chapter 1

_~~~ Obviously, I don't own Criminal Minds. It'd be awesome if I did, 'cause I could meet the actors and have all this money and what's more, this script would be an actual episode. But I don't own Criminal Minds. So sad..._

_Sorry the chapter is kind of short, and sorry if I didn't capture the mood of the show or the way the character would act correctly. I tried my best, and all criticism is appreciated (even anonymous criticism). _

_And Rhianna, you owe me BIG time! :D ~~~_

* * *

Chapter One

Rhianna Hale was flanked by her three best-friends as they walked across the field, giggling and rolling their eyes at one another's bad jokes. She'd known her friends - Jamie Felton, Mackenzie Chesney, and Morgan McCartney - since she was seven. Jamie was the only redhead in their grade. Mackenzie was the shortest girl in their grade. Morgan spoke with a stutter. And Rhianna herself had been an outcast for as long as she could remember, and didn't really know why.

When she was younger, she and her brother had often played in this field together. Now she and her friends walked through it, knowing that it was a good short cut to get to the ice-cream shop where they were heading. The summer day was hot, school would start up again in three days. Having barely made it past ninth grade with any sense of dignity left in tact, Rhianna - and, unbeknownst to her - Morgan, Jamie, and Mackenzie worried about what sophomore year would bring. Morgan housed more than just a fear for the upcoming year and her classmates, though. She had a more serious problem.

Mackenzie look back and shook her head in disgust, her curls bobbing on her head. She made a tsk-ing noise twice before saying, "Now why would someone do that? Why would someone drive up here and kill off all this wildlife?" Her friends looked back to see a red pickup truck driving towards them, smashing and squashing all the grass, flowers, and so forth. They understood Mackenzie's upset. She was big on the environment. "Do they not understand -" Mackenzie continued.

But the truck was beginning to speed up. Morgan's heart beat fasted. She told herself not to be stupid, not to lose her sense…but she recognized the truck.

"RUN!" she yelped, taking off at a breakneck speed. Her friends sprinted after her, confused but also terrified. The driver of the truck, noticing that the girls were fleeing, sped up even more.

Rhianna, breath panting, saw a familiar landmark. The field, which was part of some sort of nature reserve, was sloped and hilly. The sight she saw before her could easily be mistaken for yet another tiny hill, but Rhianna knew better. It was actually a tiny cave, with grass growing over top of it. When she was little and played hide-and-seek with her brother, it had always been the perfect hiding spot.

She ran there now, and didn't see what occurred within the next few minutes.

Rhianna, due to some unknown luck, missed having to see the massacre which unfolded and, indeed, avoided being part of it. For while she ran and hid behind the hill, Mackenzie Chesney fell over her shoe-lace, which had become untied. The driver of the truck promptly ran over her, with no real concern for whether she lived or died. Her then got out of his truck and in three quick steps he managed to corner Jamie Felton, stabbing her thrice with the knife he wielded in his right hand.

Morgan was stopped in her tracks. Where to run? What to do? Where had Rhianna gone? Was Mackenzie dead? Did he just stab Jamie?

By the time the thought had entered Morgan's head to flee, it was too late, and she was doomed. The driver of the truck, masked in a navy blue balaclava despite the heat, grinned at her maliciously before throwing her to the ground. She uttered one last plea: "N-n-no, p-p-p-please. You d-don't want t-t-to d-do th-th-this."

"Quite the contrary, Miss McCartney," he replied. Then he pinned her down, lifted his knife -

And with one hearty slice, he had cut off her head.

Morgan McCartney was decapitated and the killer, quite pleased and feeling all had been made right, returned to his truck. He revved the engine and back up, retreating from the field.

Rhianna Hale slowly emerged from the cave. She had heard the truck go…but she had also heard the screams from her friends. Cautiously, for she wasn't altogether positive that no bad guy lay in wait for her, Rhianna rounded the cave/hill and greeted the nasty scene that lay before her.

There lay Mackenzie, smushed, her legs at odd angles, her eyes shut.

There lay Jamie, blood spread across her shirt like a stain, and spread across her lips like lipstick much too bright.

Lastly, there lay Morgan, blood leaking from her neck and her hair spraying out behind her. It didn't take Rhianna even a second to realize her friend was headless.

She gave a petrified scream and returned to the cave, tucking her knees to her chest, tears coming down her cheeks as she hyperventilated.

And she stayed that way for fourteen hours, eyes wide open, breath frantic, face wet with tears. Until finally, after a long search involving all of Buffalo's police and a lot of volunteers from the community, two women, three men, and one cop stumbled across the field. They found the bodies first, bloody, already with flies near them…

And then they found Rhianna Hale, shocked into silence.

Theme Song

Garcia (voiceover) "Lieutenant Coningsby Dawson once said, 'The war will not last forever; but the memory of it, the suffering of it, the incalculable waste of it, will last for all that remains of our lives.'"

JJ stood in front of the BAU team in the meeting room where she'd time and time again explained a case. This one was different than most had been recently - not a typical serial killer, but the brutal murder of three high-school girls was enough to get her attention. Especially since there was one left, and now…JJ shuddered and turned her attention to the screen where the picture that had been sent to her from the Buffalo PD - the one with the four girls at their eighth grade graduation, all dressed up and grinning - was on display.

"Two weeks ago in Buffalo four girls were walking to their local ice-cream parlour when they decided to take a short cut through a nearby field. It was then that a man in a truck drove up behind them."

She paused and flicked the picture so that four individual shots of the girls appeared.

"Mackenzie Chesney was run over by the truck. Jamie Felton was stabbed three times in the chest. Morgan McCartney was decapitated."

"What about the other girl?" Reid inquired, as JJ switched the screen to show pictures from the crime scene. Garcia winced as blood, guts, and gore appeared in front of them.

"She was the only survivor. Her name is Rhianna Hale and she hid inside a cave. The UnSub didn't seem to notice her, however when she saw her friends Rhianna went into a state of shock. It took authorities fourteen hours to find her."

Morgan's eyebrows shot up. "Fourteen hours with her three dead friends lying around her?" he asked in disbelief. Then: "Why weren't we called in sooner?" He was often sceptical about taking cases where it seemed unlikely the UnSub would strike again, but cases with kids involved really got to him. He knew what it was like to be a child surrounded by violence.

JJ made the screen change to a picture of a man's mugshot. "They police were sure they'd found their killer based on the description Rhianna gave. She said he was about six feet tall with light brown hair, and that he drove a red truck that was old. They couldn't get much else out of her." JJ sighed sadly and ran a tired hand absentmindedly through her hair.

"So," said Prentiss, "They police arrest a tall guy with a red truck? Seems like a long shot to me."

"It was," JJ agreed, "Rodney Cliff was a teacher at the girls' school. His alibi didn't check out, however due to the fact that the UnSub was masked it's impossible for Rhianna to determine whether he is or is not the man who murdered her friends." JJ's eyes blazed. She, like Morgan, hated the idea that there were kids out there having to put up with this. High school was already hard enough.

Garcia, more comfortable now that the screen showed only the picture of a disgruntled-looking man, took the opportunity to ask, "I'm sorry JJ, but if they've already got their suspect…?"

JJ nodded, "Two days ago Rhianna Hale received a letter in the mail," JJ paused and pressed the buttons so the screen showed the final picture, the one of the envelope which in capital letters read Rhianna, "It's from the UnSub." she finished.

"So Rodney Cliff isn't really their guy," Rossi muttered.

Hotch's face, which was nearly always set in a grim frown, grew even more serious. "Wheels up in twenty," he decided, "The Buffalo PD needs our help - and we're going to catch this monster."

* * *

_~~~ Ok so...I hope that wasn't too painful to read! :-) Review as you see fit!_ ~~~


	2. Chapter 2

_~~~ When I posted the first chapter I should have mentioned I'm from Canada, not the states, and therfore not Buffalo. To those who live there, I'm sorry that I'm utterly and totally making stuff up about your city._

_Including people, by the way. I used my friends names, but no one in this story is based on an actual real person. _

_Enjoy! ~~~_

* * *

Chapter two

The team walked through the doors of the Buffalo police office where a petite woman with hair already greying despite her somewhat young age, greeted them.

"I'm Detective Tanner," she introduced herself, "I'm the head of this case. I really appreciate you coming here. We're all just so disgusted by what's happened."

"As you should be," Hotch assured her before asking, "Is there a place where my team can get set up?"

"Yes," Detective Tanner said, "In our conference room, right over there." JJ, Reid, and Prentiss immediately took off, ready to examine pictures and evidence, create a profile, and - for JJ - decide what to do about the media attention.

Rossi turned to Detective Tanner. "We'd like to meet the parents of the girls," he requested.

"And they'd like to meet you," Det. Tanner replied, "They're already here." she nodded her head towards a bench where three men and three woman sat.

"Where's Rhianna Hale?" Hotch inquired.

"At home, with her mother." Det. Tanner lowered her voice, "She's been through a lot, and she's just a young girl."

"We will have to talk to her, Detective." Morgan pointed out.

Det. Tanner nodded, "I understand that," she said, "But we already have. And that poor girl can barely even get her words out." she sighed and shook her head. "Well, come on, then. It's time you meet the parents."

~~~***~~~

"Mackenzie was our only girl," said Mrs. Chesney, a woman as tall as Mackenzie had been short. Mr. Chesney sat with his arm around his wife, looking at Hotch in the eye. Hotch, on the other side of the table, sat next to Det. Tanner.

"We're very sorry about your loss, Mrs. Chesney." he said, "We want to do all we can to arrest your daughter's killer. But in order to do that we need you to answer a few questions."

Mrs. Chesney nodded, wiping away her tears with the back of her fist.

"Was Mackenzie on any sport teams, or in any clubs?" Hotch asked patiently.

"She did gymnastics," Mrs. Chesney said, "She hated it but…Jeremy, her little brother, is only six. He wanted to do gymnastics but didn't want to be teased so -" she broke off and let out a sob, "- so Mackenzie went and Jeremy would tell people he'd go in order to protect his sister from…from -" another sob, "- from any bad guys!"

Mrs. Chesney broke down, her tears flowing freely as she buried her face in her husband's shoulder.

"There, there." Mr. Chesney whispered.

Mrs. Chesney straightened up, "I'm sorry," she said, "Please, go on."

Hotch nodded once. "Did Mackenzie have any friends other than Rhianna, Morgan, and Jamie?"

"No," Mr. Chesney answered, "They were all she had…and all she needed. They were such good friends to her."

"A lot of people didn't get Mackenzie," Mrs. Chesney said, eyes watering, "But she was a good girl. And so were her friends. We don't begrudge Rhianna for living, not even a little bit. All we want…"

"All we want," Mr. Chesney finished, "Is for that bastard to be caught."

~~~***~~~

Morgan and Prentiss sat across from Jamie Felton's parents in a different room. While both her parents had hair that was varying shade of bright orange and red, her parents regarded one another frostily. Their divorce six years ago had been nasty and both still held a grudge, yet they came together, both obviously distressed, in order to do anything to avenge Jamie's death. She had been their only child, and neither of them had other offspring or partners. For both Mr. Felton and Ms. Avery, Jamie was their life.

"Mr. Felton," Morgan said, "Did the man accused - Rodney Cliff - ever seem suspicious to you? Did he do some things that made your daughter uncomfortable? Spend to much time with her, treat her differently than the others?"

Mr. Felton shook his head, his eyes wide, his face pale, biting his lower lip. "No," he said, his voice strong but threatening to break at any moment, "No. She never even mentioned him."

"Jamie didn't have Mr. Cliff," Ms. Avery explained, "She was in advanced classes. He taught remedial math."

Morgan shot Prentiss a weary look. They'd already asked whether Jamie had any other hobbies, any other friends - but all her parents could come up with was that Jamie was exceptionally smart. A quiet girl. When she wasn't with Rhianna, Morgan, and Mackenzie, she just stayed inside with whatever parent she was living with at the time. She didn't date, she didn't participate in school teams, she wasn't a member of any sort of club, and she didn't do a single extracurricular activity.

A single tear dripped from Ms. Avery's eye. "You have to understand," she begged the two agents sitting in front of her, "What happened…is not something that happens to girls like Jamie."

And with those words, Mr. Felton began to weep, hiding his face in his hands.

~~~***~~~

Morgan McCartney played on an all-girls hockey team. She had a twin sister, Marla, who had been accepted to a high school specializing in the arts. And, of course, Morgan attended speech therapy for her stutter which had been with her, her parents explained, since she had first began to speak.

"When Marla was being mean she'd joke that Morgan…had been dropped on her head as a baby," Mrs. McCartney had a frown on her face, deep and permanent. She hadn't smiled since she'd gotten the call from Mrs. Hale telling her that their daughters had gone missing. "But for the most part they got along."

Mrs. McCartney took a deep, rattling breath. "Ever since my husband died it's been harder for us financially. The girls have really come through, accepting the fact that we just couldn't afford certain things anymore -" Mrs. McCartney looked away, tears spilling from her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. McCartney," said Rossi. First her father dies, now her sister is killed, and an emotionally worn-out mother. He could only imagine what life as Marla McCartney must be like.

"I've given the police all the numbers," Mrs. McCartney said, "And a photo of the hockey team. Morgan was a great player, and she and the other girls got along well enough but," Mrs. McCartney shrugged, "Rhianna, Jamie, and Mackenzie were Morgan's real friends. They were…just always there for her. She got bullied a lot and even when Marla didn't stand up for her one of them would." she nodded quickly and repeatedly, then pulled a tissue from her purse and wiped her eyes.

"I'll tell you anything, give you anything. All I want is for this horrible man to be found. If I got my hands on him…" her expression turned to one of pure anger before her tears began to fall again. She shook her head.

"My god," Mrs. McCartney whispered, "My god, what has he done?"

~~~***~~~

Reid, like Rossi, was alone in his questioning. Mr. Hale was a small man with a balding head and a round nose. "I'm away for work a lot," he said, his voice shaky, "When the girls disappeared, I wasn't even in the state."

"Mr. Hale, what is Rhianna like now?" Reid asked. He hadn't been able to get much out of the man, not because he was uncooperative but simply because he honestly seemed to have no clue when it came to his daughter. He knew she liked to draw, and that she took art lessons from a place down the street from their house. He knew that she'd been friends on-and-off with Mackenzie since they were four, but that they hadn't become good friends until second grade when Rhianna, Mackenzie, Morgan, and Jamie had all been characters from The PowerPuff Girls for Halloween.

While telling Reid this, Mr. Hale had proffered a picture from his wallet. Four young girls all dressed up stood grinning in front of their elementary school - Jamie as Blossom, Morgan as Bubbles, Rhianna as Buttercup, and Mackenzie as Mojo Jojo. "It was a coincidence," Mr. Hale explained, "But it was the best thing that ever happened for her."

Still, other than that, Mr. Hale didn't have all that much to say, so now Reid took a different approach - the present, rather than the past.

"Now?" Mr. Hale repeated, a bit confused. Due to the fact that his daughter was the one remaining survivor, Mr. Hale was much less teary then the other parents, but certainly no less distraught. "Well now…she's quiet. You could never get Rhianna to be quiet before. She won't talk to anybody, not even her mother - except for Edwin."

"Edwin?" Reid inquired.

"Her brother. He's in college…but that was how the police asked their questions. Through him. She wouldn't answer them otherwise."

"Mr. Hale, apart from her lack of speech, does Rhianna seem to particularly withdrawal from anyone?"

"I don't understand what you mean."

"Men? Women?" Reid prompted, "Any specific person that she stays away from more than she used to?"

"If your implying my daughter knows who the killer is and won't say -"

"I'm not implying that at all, it's just possible that her subconscious -"

Which was when JJ entered, her heels clacking against the stone floor. "Reid," she said, "Rhianna Hale just got another letter."


	3. Chapter 3

_~~~ Thank you for the reviews and the favourites. :) _

_Here's the next chapter... ~~~_

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Chapter Three

The BAU team hadn't even gotten a chance to look at the first letter, so now they sat with both in front of them, the parents being sent home for now.

Prentiss held the most recent letter in a plastic-gloved hand, despite the fact that it'd already been dusted for fingerprints. "'I can't believe I missed you Rhianna, I will find you. I will do to you what I did to the others. Mark my words, this time I will get you. It's for your own good. I love you, Rhianna. I loved them too.' And it's signed, 'xoxo' with no name." she said, reading from the last paragraph of the letter, which was two pages long. Mostly, the UnSub just ranted about how he loved Rhianna - and personal stuff, like how Rhianna loved to draw and how she was the most confident out of all her friends.

"Well," Morgan sighed, "It's enough to creep me out." then he added, "There's no way that Cliff guy could be sending these letters?"

"Detective Tanner said he's been separated from the other prisoners and isn't allowed to leave his cell. Everyone's so horrified by what he's allegedly done that not a single person in this city would help him." Hotch replied.

Rossi was still caught up on the letter. "He threatens to kill her - but then says he loves her?"

"He could intend to sexually assault her - rape her." Prentiss suggested.

"No," Hotch shot the idea down, "Because he didn't do that to any of the others."

"But Hotch, there's no real pattern with what he's done to those girls. Run over, stab, decapitate - now taunt with letters?" Morgan shook his head, "This isn't a killer who has any real plan."

"No, you're wrong," Reid murmured, "You have to plan to cut someone's head off. It's not something that's done on impulse. Running over? Maybe. Stabbing? Sure. But decapitating?"

"What are you saying, Reid?" Morgan asked.

"Well, obviously he'd have to had known where the girls were going." Reid began.

"And he was wearing a mask and carrying a knife which would imply he had the intent to murder." Prentiss added.

"Exactly," Reid agreed, "But the first two killings -"

"Were done more because he had to because he needed too," Hotch muttered. He looked up at his team, "Which would mean that Morgan McCartney was the target all along."

"No, wait -" Prentiss said, "What about the letters?"

But before anyone could answer JJ entered the room and flicked on the TV next to her co-workers. "Guys, look at this," she instructed, flipping the channel to the news. An anchorman gravely reported that Rodney Cliff had been released on bail.

"Now that we're looking for the UnSub," JJ turned to them, "Well, he was let go."

"It doesn't matter," Hotch shook his head, "He's not out UnSub."

Reid cleared his throat before speaking up. He held the first letter in his hand and now pointed out, "There are ink blots on the paper showing that the UnSub stopped to consider his words before writing them down."

"Well that's not right. An UnSub like this wouldn't need to think about what he said or be careful about phrasing it correctly. If he feels about Rhianna like he says he does in his letters, he'd have no hesitation." Morgan reasoned.

"Well why start writing these letters just now anyway?" Prentiss asked. She could usually stay on top of things, follow the case, keep up with the UnSub. But the letters confused her. "It's been two weeks since he's killed them. Why didn't he contact Rhianna earlier?"

"Maybe he has," Hotch said before turning to Morgan, "Contact Garcia," he instructed, knowing that Morgan liked carrying out that task the best, "Get her to look into all of Rhianna's recent internet activity. IMs, emails, chatrooms. See if she's talked to anyone. All her friends are dead now - whoever she's talked to could be the UnSub."

Morgan nodded and Hotch went on, " Reid, you come with me. It's time we go talk to Rhianna." Reid looked up in surprise. Normally Prentiss would have been given that job.

"JJ," Hotch continued, ignoring Reid's shocked look, "Hold a press conference in order to answer any questions the people may have about Rodney Cliff's release. They all believe he's the UnSub. You must stress that he's not. I don't want to drag an innocent man's name through the mud." JJ nodded.

"Rossi, Prentiss, go find Rodney Cliff. I don't believe he did it, but we have to learn why his alibi didn't check out." Hotch finished.

As he went to leave, JJ spoke up. "Hotch," she said, "I just got forwarded the girls' autopsy report. Nothing that we didn't already know about, except for Morgan McCartney. She had multiple bruising and burns, from long before her murder."

JJ slid the pictures across the table to Hotch, the burns on Morgan McCartney looking like they were from the burning tip of a cigarette. "Domestic abuse?" Prentiss suggested.

"No," Rossi shook his head, "I talked to her mother - she's too small to make bruises like this, and the father's dead."

"Thank you JJ," Hotch concluded, "We'll keep this in mind."

And with that, Hotch turned on his heels and left the room, heading for the SUV, with Reid following behind him.

~~~***~~~

As they pulled up into the Hale's driveway Reid had to ask. "Hotch, why'd I come with you? Wouldn't Rhianna Hale feel more comfortable around Prentiss?"

Hotch parked the SUV and shot Reid a look. "You interviewed Mr. Hale yourself. The only one she's talking to is her brother. You're the closest one in age to both him and her. Rhianna Hale is frightened, confused, and in shock. If having you around could help her relax more, well - you're going to come." Hotch stepped out of the car and Reid did too, both of them heading for the door.

Mrs. Hale opened it on the first ring. She looked exactly as Rhianna did in the pictures. Hotch held up his badge but before he could get the words out, Mrs. Hale smiled sadly.

"I take it you're here to talk to my daughter, then. Come inside."

"Thank you," Hotch said, "I'm Aaron Hotchner and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. We were hoping to ask Rhianna a few questions."

"Certainly. I'll call Edwin. He's just next door."

"That won't be necessary ma'am we'd like to try this without her brother." Hotch explained.

Mrs. Hale shrugged, "Be my best. If you get her to talk, well…" she shrugged, "She's just in the living room, right through there." As Hotch and Reid began to leave she said, "Wait. I got to ask you…is this normal? I just want my daughter back. She used to be such a happy girl." Her smile wobbled and a tear fell from her eye.

"Mrs. Hale, I'm sure with time your daughter will began to get better. But she's going through a difficult time right now -" Hotch began.

Mrs. Hale nodded, fell into one of the chairs nearby and blew her nose in a tissue. "Yes, of course," she said, "Yes."

Hotch nodded and then went to the living room, relieved that Reid hadn't offered up any sort of statistic about the process of grieving and how Rhianna Hale may or may not be plunged into a state of depression/may or may not require a counsellor/may or may not be more likely to commit suicide, etc. His heart ached for the parents in times like this - he couldn't imagine, and would never let himself imagine, how he'd feel if something were to ever happen to Jack - but the best way he could help was by catching the criminal.

Reid and Hotch entered the living room to see Rhianna Hale sitting on a cushioned bench in front of the window, her long legs spread out in front of her. Her head rested against the glass, her eyes closed, and a sketchbook with a pencil resting on it sat in her lap.

Hotch motioned for Reid to go forward, so nervously, Reid did.

"Excuse me - Rhianna?" he began. Rhianna, who had not been sleeping but simply remembering (about that terrible day, the only thing her memory seemed capable of recalling) flicked open her eyes and jolted upward. She didn't recognize the voice and for a second thought perhaps the murderer had gotten into her house, returned for her. She saw height and brown hair, thought the worst - began to fight hysteria. There was a gun on his hip and Rhianna began to choke out a scream…

"I'm Dr. Spencer Reid. I'm with the FBI. We were wondering if we could talk to you."

Upon hearing that, Rhianna realized how stupid she'd been. Stupid, stupid. She was such a scaredy-cat now. Paranoid. It was why, on the first day of school, she had jumped out of her seat when someone knocked on the door. Felt a pair of eyes searing into her when she sat near the front, as though someone were watching her from the back of the class. When she went outside for lunch, she felt she could be snatched or stabbed at any moment - it was all too much, and now she just stayed at home, education-less for the time being. She looked at the guy again. "Doctor" he had referred to himself. He was too skinny to have been the UnSub, anyway. She had overreacted.

"Rhianna," the other man stepped forward, "Can you do that? Can you answer some questions for us?"

Rhianna gave one slow nod, looking around for Edwin. She couldn't explain why her brother was the only one she could talk to. That was just the way it was. Still, she managed, without words, to let the FBI agents know they could take a seat. The doctor one, Spencer Reid, did. Not so with the second, who had yet to introduce himself.

"What are you drawing?" Reid asked, trying to get Rhianna to relax before he and Hotch began to interrogate her. Rhianna flipped her sketchbook towards him.

Upon seeing the drawing, Reid looked up at Hotch for an appropriate response. Rhianna had made four sections on the paper. In the first box, she'd drawn four girls smiling at one another. In the second, she'd drawn them running from a truck. In the third, she'd drawn three mutilated bodies. In the fourth, she'd drawn herself, curled in a ball with tears dripping down her cheeks.

It was now that Hotch sat down and said, "I'm Aaron Hotchner. Rhianna, how far is the ice-cream parlour from your house?"

Rhianna frowned, contemplating how to answer his question without speaking. If she spoke, she might give something away. She used to talk so much, to everybody - who knew when she'd given too much information, or how she'd ticked someone off. But maybe if she'd kept her big mouth shut for two seconds, nothing would have happened.

Eventually, she flipped the page over and wrote in small, bubbly lettering: _15 minutes_.

"Rhianna, why can't you speak to us?" Hotch inquired, carefully choosing his words. "Did your parents tell you not to?" Rhianna shook her head furiously. "Did the UnSub - er, bad guy - tell you not to?" She shook her head even harder. Really, Rhianna didn't appreciate having the murderer of her friends being referred to as "the bad guy". She was fifteen, not five. And even though it had always been Jamie in the advanced classes, she was bright enough to figure out what UnSub meant.

"Rhianna," Reid spoke up, "What happened…isn't your fault. Most likely the killer is driven by a fantasy. He's living in a - a delusion. You aren't even the target. It was Morgan. That's why -"

Reid turned to Hotch in shock. He was having a eureka moment. "That's why he sent the letters! To throw us off track, to make it seem like Rhianna was the target when really he probably didn't even know she was there!"

"Reid," said Hotch sternly. It wasn't that he didn't agree with Reid, but they needed to give Rhianna their full attention. She was traumatized…and she was their best chance at catching the killer. Reid nodded apologetically, then turned back to Rhianna.

"Did you and your friends go to the field often?" he asked.

Rhianna began writing frantically, and when she was done she'd managed to scribble: _Only when we wanted that short cut, but not recently. I used 2 go w/ Ed. We'd play hide & seek. _

"Rhianna," Hotch addressed her now, "Have you received any sort of strange or unusual calls or emails since the murders? Picked up the telephone only to find no one on the other end, or maybe you've gotten an email from a sender you don't know?"

On the paper: _No._

"Is there anything else that comes to mind you think we could find useful? The licence plate on the truck, perhaps?" Reid asked.

_Sorry. _Rhianna showed the paper and gave a small, apologetic smile. Reid gave his own sad smile back.

"Thank you for your time, Rhianna. I'll give your mother my card." Hotch stood up and began to leave the room, Reid following suit.

Rhianna watched them go, her dark eyes darting back and forth. She looked down at her sketchbook, flipped the paper back over to her drawings about that awful day. She studied the second one, where they were running. Studied Morgan's face.

She jumped up, needing to tell them something. The older man, Hotchner, had already left the room but the young one, the doctor, was just stepping out.

"Wait!" she bid, her voice clear and crystal. It wasn't like she was mute, after all. Just ticked off with herself, and maybe a bit afraid. With three quick, long steps she was standing next to Reid, not too far from being his height. It wasn't necessary, but she grabbed his arm, pulled him back to her sketch.

"Morgan," she said, "Morgan wasn't one to run, wasn't one to screm or overreact. I would have done something like that, maybe, or Jamie, or even Mac. Morgan? No. But she was the one who screamed first. She knew. You said it was all about Morgan." Rhianna gestured to her drawing, "Well, you're right."

"Rhianna, how do you know I'm right?" Reid asked carefully, wondering if this girl knew something, if there was some dark secret…

But Rhianna just shrugged and picked up her sketchbook. "You're with the FBI, right? And you're a doctor, which means PhD, which means smart."

"That doesn't mean I'm right -" Reid started to say.

"No," Rhianna agreed, "But it increases the chances." she looked out the window distractedly as a couple of kids walked by. She knew them, not well, but she knew them. Had been in a kindergarten class with one of them. "Look, just catch that creep, ok? Just…" her voice became choked with tears, so she took a deep breath and leaned over, closing the curtains. Those kids had always been such jerks to her. "Catch him." she finished, quietly, to herself.

"I'll try," Reid replied, his hands jammed in the pockets of his pants. He was deep in thought, because he was pretty sure Rhianna had just told him who had been beating and burning Morgan. The UnSub. Meaning that Morgan had been the target, after all.

~~~***~~~

"Welcome to Fairy Godmothers International. We'll grant your wish with the wave of a wand." Garcia greeted.

Morgan grinned, "How about a tap of the computer keys?"

"Well of course, sweetcheaks. What can I do for you today?" Garcia asked good-naturedly.

"I need you to dig up Rhianna Hales's computer files. Think you can do that?"

"What, hack into a fifteen year-old girl's computer system? Underestimate me much?" Garcia inquired, clicking and clacking and typing. "Ok," she said after a moment or two, "What is it we're looking for?"

"Recent activity. Emails, chatrooms…" Morgan responded.

"Hmm, let us see. No emails, no chatrooms. She does, however, seem to have been having trouble sleeping."

"And how would you know that?" Morgan inquired, stupefied.

"Well she's Googled how to beat insomnia only a ba_jiillion_ times and asked the people on Yahoo! answers." Garcia sighed, "The poor thing."

"That's all you can tell me?"

"My, my. Aren't we grouchy today."

"Sorry Garcia, but until we catch this guy -"

"I know, I know. I want him caught to. Oh, this is interesting. Rhianna Hale plays a LOT of WoW. And I mean, more than even the biggest WoW junkies I know do."

"WoW?" Morgan questioned.

"World of Warcraft, get with it!" Garcia grinned evilly, "Not really my thing, and clearly not yours."

"Yeah well I catch too many monsters in real life to bother trying to kill any animated ones."

"Touché." Garcia replied.

"Thanks, baby doll." Morgan said.

"Just another day's work for super-Garcia," Garcia said before Morgan hung up the phone.

~~~***~~~

Prentiss knocked on the door of Rodney Cliff's house, and when he answered, both she and Rossi held up their badges.

"Oh come on," Rodney Cliff said, only half-joking, "I just got rid of you guys."

"Mr. Cliff we'd like to ask you a few questions concerning the afternoon of the triple murder." Rossi said, getting right to business.

"Well then I suppose a 'come on in' is in order." Rodney Cliff replied, pulling the door open wider and stepping aside to let the two agents in. "Can I get you anything to drink?" he offered.

"No thank you, Mr. Cliff." Prentiss replied.

Rossi pressed, "You told the Buffalo PD that you were at the movies, only for your wife to say you were out golfing with friends. Video surveillance tapes show that you never entered the theatre you claimed to go to, and it was the same for the golf course. So where were you really, Mr. Cliff?"

"Look," Rodney Cliff said, "Mackenzie Chesney? She was my student. Why would I run over one of my own students with my truck and then continue to stab and decapitate her two friends?" he shook his head, raking a hand through his hair. "I've already been booted from my job because of this accusation. As soon as I'm able to, I'm going to have to leave town - you think anyone's ever going to trust me again? I would never, _never_ have hurt those girls."

"That's fine, Mr. Cliff. Just tell us where you were." Rossi instructed.

"Having an affair with your wife?" Prentiss suggested, "Maybe slipping off with another woman while your wife is getting her hair done? How'd you meet? At work? At a bar?"

"Stop it." Rodney Cliff hissed, "Just stop it, alright? I'm not cheating on my wife, I…" he took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling. "I was following her, alright?"

Prentiss looked over at Rossi. "Following…?" she prompted.

"My wife! Following my wife. I just had to be sure that _she_ wasn't cheating on _me_."

"And how do you propose we find out whether you're telling the truth or not?" Rossi inquired.

"Because I have pictures," Rodney Cliff seethed, "Pictures of her getting into a taxi, trying on shoes at the store…"

"Stalking your own wife? That's a new one." Prentiss commented.

They left after seeing the photos and Rodney Cliff's upset wife confirmed that, yes, that's what she'd been doing on that afternoon.

"Well, he's certainly delusional." Prentiss muttered as they got back in the SUV.

"But he's not the delusional man we're looking for." Rossi concluded.


	4. Chapter 4

_~~~ This is a rather short chapter. More to come, I promise. ~~~_

* * *

Chapter Four

The BAU team, including JJ, stood in front of a crowd of cops, giving out their profile. It was the next day, and although September, the weather was showing no signs of autumn temperatures, with the sun making the air so hot that numerous fans had to be turned on inside the police office.

Hotch began first, with the physical profile. "The man we're looking for is white. He's in early thirties to late forties. Due to Rhianna Hale, we know he is tall with brown hair. He will drive, own, or have the accessibility to, a red pickup truck. It's most likely American-made, and is described as old, meaning it will look rusted or in need of a wash."

"This man would know the girls." Rossi continued, "Although the murder was a blitz attack and not much time was taken in the killing, there is little chance that he will strike again. The focus is mostly on Morgan McCartney and possibly Rhianna Hale. He will undoubtedly be connected to one or both of them in some way. We know already that he had made contact with Morgan before."

Reid added in his piece. "The UnSub was masked so that no one could see his face despite the fact that he struck in a remote area with the intention to kill all four girls. Because of this we know that he is careful, and doesn't want to be known for what he has done. He lives in the area, yet is forgettable enough for no one to have made the connection between him and the murders. He will _not_ have injected himself into the investigation."

Prentiss tucked a strand of her long black hair behind her ear before adding, "This man is not remorseful for what he's done. If he attended the funeral, he did so only because it was expected of him and not going could make him a suspect. He would not have given any condolences to the families."

"This man is suffering from a delusion," Hotch spoke once more, "And for whatever reason, these girls - namely Morgan McCartney - were and are part of it."

"Lastly, our UnSub is still a threat to Rhianna Hale. There is to be police monitoring her home and wherever else she may go at all times until this man is caught. He may or may not be stalking her, and if we keep her from reading his letters, he may be compelled to try and contact her in a different way." Morgan finished.

One of the policemen in the crowd called out, "Does this mean we should disallow Miss Hale from reading the letters this psycho sends?" Unknown to the BAU team, this particular cop had been against having Rhianna read the letters all along. He didn't think it could be healthy for a young girl to have to read death threats and proclamations of love at the same time, knowing they were directed at her. He hoped they would answer with a yes.

Instead it was JJ who responded with, "We should leave it up to Rhianna Hale. While not having her read the letters may draw him out, we don't want Rhianna to go through any more than she already has. If there are no other questions, then that will be all. I will be holding a press conference later in the day involving local news stations to talk about what is being done."

When no one called out again, Detective Tanner dismissed the rest of the police. "Well what do we do now?" she asked, "Wait for someone to recognize the man?"

"It would probably help if we went over the letters once more, check for something we missed." Reid suggested.

Detective Tanner nodded, then pulled out a new letter from the drawer. "Would have given this to you sooner, but -" she shrugged, "At any rate, Mrs. Hale brought it in this morning."

Rossi took the envelope from Detective Tanner's hands and pulled out the letter. Morgan commented, "This letter mentions that he's known her for a long time."

"But how is that possible? Rhianna Hale has been asked dozens of times if any of the men she knows could be the one who killed her friends, regardless of whether or not they owned a truck, and every time she's said no."

"It could be bad memory," JJ suggested, "People often least suspect those around them."

Hotch gave his head a small shake, grimacing. "Morgan, what was that game you said Rhianna played?"

"World of Warcraft?" Morgan replied, dubiously. He didn't know for sure that he had the name right.

"What if she could talk to people on that?" Hotch asked, "What if she told someone where she was going…?"

Morgan flipped open his phone and pressed the speed-dial for Garcia. "Hey, Garcia, we need you to look into Rhianna Hale's internet records again. Mostly just what she said on WoW…"

Which was when Reid muttered, "Forgettable enough for no one to have made the connection…"

"What is it Reid?" Hotch asked, at the same time Garcia said,

"Rhianna Hale used to talk to the character Ed_Win almost every time she was on."

"Well that's her brother," Morgan replied.

"Username Lecram Mmot." Garcia added.

"Wait a minute -" said Reid, his eidetic memory in full throttle. "Backwards, that's Marcel Tomm -"

"Why do I recognize that name?" Prentiss asked.

"Because it's the name of Morgan McCartney's speech therapist." Detective Tanner spoke up.

"If this man had Rhianna convinced she was talking to her brother, then she would have told him everything." Hotch said grimly.

"Like when she and her friends were going out for ice-cream, and how they'd cut through the field where she and Edwin used to play." Rossi agreed sadly.


	5. Chapter 5

_~~~ Thanks you for reviewing and adding this story to favourites and alerts. I really appreciate it! :-) ~~~_

* * *

Chapter Five

Reid, Rossi, Hotch, Morgan, and Prentiss stood outside Marcel Tomm's door, bullet-proof vests on, guns pointed forward. Surrounding them was Detective Tanner and other policemen and women, ready to take down Marcel Tomm at a moment's notice.

Hotch knocked on the door. "Marcel Tomm, this is the FBI. Open up." no response. "We're coming in." no response again, so he gave the go-ahead to Morgan, who kicked down the door. His specialty.

They entered the house, calling out, "Clear!" from each empty room. Prentiss and Hotch entered the garage. A silver Honda and another vehicle covered in blue tarp occupied the space. Slowly, Prentiss peeled back the tarp - and shot Rossi a frown upon discovering a pickup truck with the red paint faded and peeling away.

Meanwhile, Detective Tanner and Hotch ran down the wooden steps to the basement and spotted a woman sitting in front of a canvas, her back to them, wearing paint-splattered overalls and dipping her brush in a jar of blue paint.

"FBI," Hotch said, pointing his gun to her, "Put your hands up, and turn around."

Nothing. No reaction.

Suddenly there was a crackle over the radios that both Hotch and Det. Tanner wore in their ears. "Hotch," it was Reid's voice, "Marcel Tomm just walked through the door."

~~~***~~~

There had been immense confusion when Marcel Tomm, upon returning from the grocery store, found his house full of cops with the door knocked down.

"Where's my daughter?" he had asked, frantic, "Opal, she's deaf, where is she?"

At which point Det. Tanner had slowly approached the young woman sitting in front of the canvas and made her aware of their presence.

Now they had Marcel Tomm in custody and he sat in the interrogation room with Det. Tanner and Morgan while the rest of the team watched from the other side of the glass.

"Mr. Tomm," Morgan said now, "How long have you been a speech therapist?"

"Since Opal was born. She was deaf from day one, so there was little chance she'd speak, and after that…" Marcel Tomm shrugged.

"What were you doing on the day the girls were killed?" Det. Tanner inquired, looking at him with all seriousness.

"I took a hike through the woods behind my house. I do that sometimes."

"And I suppose your daughter can vouch for you?" Morgan asked.

"No. She was at art school." Marcel Tomm looked from detective to agent. "I don't understand what's going on here. Are you blaming me for these girls' deaths?"

"Mr. Tomm, I think you understand exactly what's going on here." Morgan replied.

On the other side of the glass, Reid's phone rang. "Reid," Garcia said once he answered and put her on speaker, "This is definitely your guy. He's been charged with cruelty to animals so many times that mit makes e sick. His wife left him when their daughter, Opal, was only three. He spends all his spare time on the computer playing WoW. And his username is Lecram Mmot."

"The same user that Rhianna Hale used to talk to." Hotch mumbled.

"Ok, thanks Garcia." Reid said, and hung up his phone.

Prentiss sighed, "Morgan could have told Tomm about Rhianna's love of the game, maybe mentioned her brother."

"Tomm saw an opening and he used it." JJ added.

"Yes, but why kill them? We need a motive." Hotch reminded his team.

"Morgan McCartney was the motive," Reid said, "Mackenzie Chesney was killed because she needed to be; she would have been a witness. Then Jamie Felton was killed not only because he needed to - he wanted to, he knew that he had the power to and it would feel good. But he had been abusing Morgan for awhile, and you don't just cut someone's head off, you plan it. Morgan was the target all along. He probably didn't even know Rhianna was there at the time."

"The letters were sent to compensate for what he missed. She was the only survivor and witness. He made a mistake." Rossi said, "He needed to cover his tracks."

"But if she's the only witness, he's not going to let her live." JJ foresaw.

Back in the interrogation room, Det. Tanner pushed a piece of paper and a pen in front of Marcel Tomm. "We need you to write your name, the date, and a sentence of your choice." she instructed.

Grumbling, Marcel Tomm snatched the pen and paper and quickly scribbled, _Marcel Tomm, September 18th, This is a waste of time._

Morgan looked down at the paper, smacked the tabletop in anger, and walked out of the room. "It doesn't match," he told his bewildered co-workers, "The writing sample he gave us doesn't match the writing in the letters sent to Rhianna Hale."

Prentiss walked over and pulled one of the letters off their evidence board. "The printing," she said, "It kind of looks like…"

"Mine." JJ finished Emily's thought. She looked up at Hotch, Morgan, Reid, and Rossi. "Guys," she said, "This isn't the printing of a middle-aged male. This printing is bubbly, cute. It was written by a woman, probably young."

"Opal Tomm." Rossi said, his mouth going dry upon the realization.

"She left to go to her grandmother's." Hotch remembered.

"She's going to kill Rhianna!" Reid exclaimed.

~~~***~~~

The red pickup truck was not missing from the garage (as if anyone would be stupid enough to drive _that _around the neighbourhood) but the silver Honda was. An alert was quickly sent out, and Hotch and Prentiss drove as fast as they could to the Hale household.

"Mrs. Hale," Hotch said once the door opened, "Where is your daughter?"

"At school," Mrs. Hale replied, "She wanted to try again. Why? What's the matter?" Mrs. Hale saw the looks on their faces and began to weep, "What's going to happen to my daughter?"

While Prentiss calmed down Rhianna's mother, Hotch flipped open his phone. "Morgan," Morgan answered, speeding along in the SUV with Reid in the passenger seat.

"Morgan," said Hotch, "Rhianna Hale went to school today."

Morgan hung up and then phoned JJ.

JJ was in the police office with Garcia on one of the computers before her; and Hotch and Morgan on speakerphone; and Rossi (who had stayed behind) standing next to her. "I just called the school. It's lunchtime, and Rhianna signed out. She told the secretary she was going to lunch with her brother."

Garcia looked up in alarm, "Internet records show that both Rhianna and Marcel Tomm were on WoW this morning."

"Rhianna still doesn't know that the user she talks to isn't her brother."

"Dammit!" Morgan snapped, smacking the steering wheel as he drove.

"Marcel Tomm says that he'll meet Rhianna outside the school at eleven." Garcia added.

"Except that Marcel Tomm is in custody." JJ stated the obvious.

"Which means his daughter is going to have to do his dirty work for him." Rossi sighed.

"Maybe she was doing it all along." JJ suddenly said, having a brainwave. "Why kill someone? Jealousy. Morgan was getting all of her father's attention, plus she could hear."

"No, it's more than that. After all, it was Marcel Tomm who killed the girls." Rossi pointed out.

"JJ," Hotch cut in from over the phone, "You're going to have to figure out where Opal Tomm is taking Rhianna. Morgan, Reid, circle the area around the school. Rossi, you go to the Tomm's house in case Opal returns. Prentiss and I will head for the field."

~~~***~~~

Earlier, Rhianna had stood outside her school and waited for her brother to come pick her up. She hadn't expected for someone to come up behind her and throw her in the trunk of a car. Now they were on the road, and it was like a nightmare come true. All the doors were locked, and although the trunk wasn't cut off from the rest of the car - meaning she could climb over the seats and reach the driver - the driver had stopped in an alleyway behind Rhianna's favourite pizza place just long enough to tie Rhianna's hands together and tape her mouth shut before throwing her back into the trunk.

Now Rhianna sat angry and terrified in the trunk once more, unable to make a sound or have the use of her hands. How could she have let this happen? She'd been so scared and yet so cautious. She wasn't a stupid girl. She was furious with herself. Whoever she'd been talking to on World of Warcraft - that hadn't been Ed, she knew that now. It was this awful person, whoever was driving the car…

So there were two of them, then. She was certain that the monster who'd killed her friends wasn't the same monster who had kidnapped her. The first monster - the UnSub, that's what the FBI agents had called him - was male, tall, and big. This UnSub was female, smaller than Rhianna, and thin. Blonde, too, not brunette. Rhianna chastised herself. She should have been able to overpower the driver of this car. She blinked her eyes, which still stung. There had been no arguing with the pepper-spray.

She was panicking, felt like she couldn't breathe. Her head smacked against the hard plastic inside of the car, and she felt tears spring to her eyes. Would anyone know she was missing? Or would they find her too late? Last time, it had taken all day to discover her. This time, when someone finally did find her, would she be alive, like before? Or would she, would she…?

They rounded the corner and something fell out of her pocket. Rhianna stared at it in in stunned thanks before springing into action, diving for the cell phone as it slid across the car floor. She clutched it with her tied-together hands, flipped it open with her thumb, then pressed on. As her finger hovered over the _9_, the car rolled to a stop. And Rhianna, scared thoughtless, clumsily jammed her phone back into her pocket.

~~~***~~~

"Oh my god," said Garcia as JJ returned from the interrogation room with a policeman after attempting to get Marcel Tomm to tell where his daughter was taking Rhianna.

"What is it Garcia?" asked JJ.

"Rhianna Hale's cell phone just turned on."

Within a moment, JJ had all the BAU team listening to Garcia. "Ok," Garcia said, "the address is 500 Cherry Road, right behind a Dairy Queen."

"We just passed a Dairy Queen," Morgan said, spinning the car around as Reid clutched the door handle to stop from falling over.

Hanging up the phone, they parked in front of the Dairy Queen and jumped out, running with their guns pointed forward to the back of the building.

Opal Tomm had parked in the alleyway behind the "Fast Food Plaza" as the locals referred to it. Dairy Queen, McDonald's, Pizza Hut, Burger King, and many more fast food joints were all set up in a line not too far from the high school. And behind them there were Dumpsters, and then a large expanse of nothingness. At one point a factory, the place behind Fast Food Plaza was abandoned, waiting to be bought out by a large company.

Opal Tomm pulled Rhianna out of the car and threw her to the ground. Rhianna could hear her cell phone snap in half, and more tears flooded her eyes. That had been her last resort. "Please!" Rhianna begged, "Don't do this!"

Opal, unlike her father, preferred guns to knives and she produced one now, aiming at Rhianna's forehead. It was a blessing, she couldn't help but feel, that she was unable to hear the girl's pleas. Otherwise, she might be persuaded to let the girl live, and that could not happen. Her father had had a mission, but he had failed, left a witness. Everything would have been perfect if he'd gotten them all in one go. They'd have waited a month, and then fled the city. Now she smashed the side of Rhianna's head with the gun to get her to stop whimpering. Just because Opal couldn't hear it, and just because Rhianna's mouth was taped, didn't mean she wasn't making any noise.

Furthermore, Rhianna had been scrambling away, using her feet to propel her backwards, her back getting scraped on the asphalt. With the smack to the head she stopped short, crumpling as her head exploded with pain. Blood dribbled down the side of her head.

Opal grinned, put her finger on the trigger, got ready to shoot. Girls like Morgan didn't deserve to live. One bloody speech impedement and you'd think the world had fallen down. And she just went on and on and on...Opal could read lips. She knew. All the girl said was Rhianna this and Jamie that and Mackenzie something else. Girls like Morgan deserved to die. It was girls like them who left the world corrupt. And girls like Rhianna? Well, they could stand to die, too. Opal didn't care.

She slowly pushed down on the trigger, prolonging the girl's death just a little bit more. She loved that look of panic in the girl's eye...

When suddenly,Opal was the one shot instead.

Rhianna screamed under the tape and looked - saw a familiar face. The doctor FBI agent - what was his name? She was no good with names - stood next to a black guy, and it had been the black guy who had fired the shot. She assumed he was also an FBI agent. Still she screamed, her eyes tearing up even more, her head throbbing. Was the woman dead? Had he shot her? Had the woman been about to shoot _her_?

Reid ran over to Rhianna, who was a bloody, teary, panicky sight. He gently pulled the tape from her mouth and then untied her hands and, still screaming, she clung to him.

Reid put his arms around the poor girl and looked up at Morgan who radioed for an ambulance. Then Reid looked down at Rhianna Hale, who had stopped screaming and started sobbing while attempting to apologize for getting his shirt all bloody.

"It's ok," said Reid, "You're going to be ok."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Reid (voiceover), "'Rise above the storm, and you will find the sunshine.' Mario Fernandez."

The team was in the jet flying home, and JJ sat on the seat across from Prentiss. "So after all that," JJ asked, "What was the delusion?"

"Morgan McCartney had a voice, however imperfect. His daughter didn't. Jealousy, rage. Killing her would give his daughter a voice, or so he believed." Prentiss replied, adding, "He was on a horrible mission...to rid the world of people better than he and his family. To 'improve' the human population."

"He lied about his credentials." Hotch added, "Morgan McCartney was his only patient. He wasn't a speech therapist."

"Her family had been going to him for years. They trusted him." Morgan shook his head, "The bastard."

"Morgan trusted him too," Hotch said grimly, "She didn't even want to give him up once he started hurting her. Not even to her friends."

"These murders were a long time in the making." Prentiss sighed.

"You think Rhianna Hale will recover?" Rossi inquired, remembering with sadness the now-paranoid young girl who had lost all her friends, blamed herself for their deaths, and was unlikely to ever trust anyone again.

"Yeah," said Reid absentmindedly, "Yeah, I think she will." and he smiled down at the screen of his laptop, where he was talking to Rhianna Hale on World of Warcraft.

* * *

_~~~...and, that's it! Short story, I know. Hope you enjoyed it. I will probably have a new story up soon, so check back just in case! Thank you for reading!_

_- Nikki-9-Doors ~~~_


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